Whoa. I cannot believe I am doing this. I swore up and down that I hated the Dimitri/Rose pairing, but guess what I am doing. I am writing a Dimitri/Rose story! I have written stories before, but never for this pairing. So, please be nice to me, but to tell me your honest opinion. I had this crazy idea creep up into my mind just today. This is an Alternative Universe, All Human fic. I would love to hear what you have to say. I would love to turn this into a story, but I will not start writing more chapters unless I get enough feedback to continue. Please. Guys. Be kind, but be honest. I am cringing of what you will think. With no further rambles of mine. . .hopefully you can like this story.

Disclaimer: Richelle Mead is owner of the VA details in here.

Chapter 1: Estranged Enslavement

The designer jewelry adoring my hand gleamed as I reached for the phone vibrating against the glass dinner table. Having a phone was a new privilege for me, a privilege I found perplexing to use at times, and really, it was useless for a phone to be in my possession when the amount of friends I was allowed to keep in my company was ridiculously small. After I had received this call for four consecutive weeks, happening at the same time each evening, guessing the caller was not exactly complicated.

I answered the call, hearing his atrocious voice, a voice which frequently haunted my everyday life.

"How are you doing tonight, my little darling girl?"

I bit my tongue, restraining back everything unpleasant I desired to yell at Stan. "I am doing great, sweetheart. Are you joining me for dinner tonight?"

"Not tonight, sweet dove. I have to pull in a late night, something about a new business. I will be working all night on this paperwork. I was just calling to let you know, so you wouldn't be worried about me if I didn't come home. Just know as I work, you will be on my mind and I will be thinking of sleeping next to you, happy."

I wonder why he doesn't just say it—I know he is "working" his secretary.

"Oh, well. . .good luck on the deal. I will see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, darling girl. I cannot go a day without seeing your beautiful face."

"I miss you, too." I sighed, daydreaming about the adventurous stories my best friend regaled me with, stating about some of her college adventures, and how she met her husband, how happy her life was, how happy her husband made her. If I at least had been given the opportunity to attend college, there was no doubt in my mind that I would be a tad bit happier in this life where happiness seemed unreal.

"I will see you tomorrow. Remember, doctor recommended you avoid meat because it makes you feel apprehensive. After you are done eating dinner, please avoid your books, so you can actually sleep at night. Have the house workers help you out with your bath, have them help you dress. Also, do not forget to take your birth control pills. You know kids will just ruin our beautiful marriage. Do you understand?" Everything in his tone had been sweet and gentle, as if he were speaking to a mentally unstable child, but the least three words, the words were filled with the authority he had.

He was my husband and he had all the power over me.

And if did not obey what he told me, the bruises his hands left on my body sure did help me remember who was boss.

"I understand," I said, already feeling like I had lost my appetite.

"Have a good evening, my little darling girl. I will see you tomorrow. Bye. I love you." Before he cut off the call, I heard catty whispers—I heard his voice on the line once more, "I have my staff watching over you and if you do not follow what I told you, my soft hands are always willing to give you a hint of my husband authority."

"Yes, sir," I said to Stan, using the title he ordered me to call him.

"Sleep well," he faintly whispered and again my ears caught the womanly talk, ending the call within seconds.

I crossed my leg over my other leg, feeling eyes on me. I took in my surroundings, noticing all of my husband's stuff watching me. Always watching me, as if I were some sick child who needed to be watched all day, every day, the whole year, even at times where I was supposed to have moments of privacy. I couldn't even be alone behind restroom doors. Everything I did, my husband knew. There was no escaping his entrapping and suffocating confines.

I set the phone down, back to its original place, grabbing my fork and picking at a meatless dinner salad. Although I had food in front of me, I was starving, craving something unhealthy and fulfilling. Sure, I was well-fed each day—but sometimes the portions of salads given to me throughout the day were not satisfying enough. And it was not exactly that I was hungry—I needed to live my life however I desired it to be, not live my life how my husband wanted me to live.

For show, knowing I had eyes on me, I took a couple forkfuls of my salad, delicately sipping on the white wine I had been served. One wrong move, something my husband did not like, I knew I would be in trouble and I would be locked up in my room once more, with Stan saying something like "You need timeout to think about your actions". To satisfy the eyes, I ate till there was but a few leaves on the dinner plate, choosing to drink the water instead.

"I am finished, feeling quite full," I informed Carver, one of the workers hired specifically for me.

"Are you sure, Miss Rose? You do not want anything else to eat?"

"No, thank you. As well as full, I am feeling tired. I need my bath and I need my sleep."

"Very well," he said, walking towards me, helping me pull out my chair and stand, taking hold of my hand, leading me up the stairs, slowly, as if he were scared I might trip over the four inch heels I was only permitted to wear, actually, four inch heels I was required to wear. Carver went even slower when he heard me breathe loudly, taking me to the bedroom I shared with my always absent husband, opening the door for me, going the extra mile to assist me in making my way to the restroom door. There, another one of my husband's workers was waiting for me, with the bath water already heated, just the way my husband loved my water's temperature to be.

"Thank you, Carver. July can do this work."

"July, are you sure you don't need my assistance in helping the lady inside the bathtub?"

When I had been introduced to this house as Mrs. Alto, he being the lovely husband, believing I was useless, had not a clue of how to take care of myself, hired personal workers who would aid me throughout our house much like a nanny would do. The additional attentive attention, was only moving for a few weeks of our marriage; now, I was irked—I was thankful I had helpful nannies as I grew, who taught me to go through a normal day of life.

"I am fine; I can help her by myself," July informed the hesitant to leave my side Carver. I was not the only one in this house who was reminded of the power my husband had within. "This is my job. . ."

I waited patiently as July stopped speaking before I spoke up. "Actually, I was wondering if you would accompany me for an evening walk. The night seems friendly tonight."

"Mrs. Alto, you would freeze out there."

"I will take a coat. Or two, if it eases your worries."

July cast a doubtful look towards Carver.

"The boss said to leave you to do whatever you wanted for a few minutes. I am sure he wouldn't mind a walk around the garden, with the whole bodyguard unit, of course."

I was thankful my proposal was approved—just for a few minutes, everyone kept reminding me. With a light sweater, a large coat that went to my knees, sweatpants that would not let one ounce of cold touch my legs, and boots that were capable of walking through snow, I walked out of the mansion that was considered my home, my home that made me feel if I were doing my time of house arrest.

My stability was losing a fight against instability.

I turned to my guard, with a request that was even more frowned upon than the last one. "Gabe, would you mind giving me a second alone? Just stay back a few feet; I will not leave your sight. Just a few steps and seconds alone. Please."

"If Mr. Alto finds out about this. . ."

"He will not find out. I am sure your people wouldn't want to feel the bad effect of his power, so I am sure they won't say anything."

"Mrs. Rose, please. I cannot give you this luxury. He will kill me if I leave you alone."

"I'll take the blame. He won't touch you. I swear."

The bodyguard, Gabe, stood tormented.

"He won't do anything to you. Please. If you were in my place, you would understand that I need some time alone."

"Fine. But I will give you only five minutes."

Mercifully, he stepped a few feet back.

I gulped in a couple of breaths of the cold evening air, the weather perfectly matching the feelings inside, a stoniness I had in my interior, quickening my pace, fighting off tears, or uncontrollable sobs. I needed to escape his controlling nature; I needed to save myself from this unsuccessful marriage where I always reminded that I was worthless; I needed to be free.

My life is dull and straight to the point. What happened to all those beautiful details life has to offer? Smile for enjoyment, not for the enjoyment of others. Eat for the stomach of yours, not for the stomach of anyone else. Learn from mistakes, not learn of mistakes. Love with force, not by force. Make love, not make do by participating in a sexual situation. Have happiness come to you, not chase happiness that seemed nonexistent. Live free.

"Sorry to interrupt. But I have to take you back inside," Gabe said, coming to meet me where I had taken a seat on one of the metal benches, benches which were decorated with tiny diamonds, coming straight from a diamond mine. The metal and diamond benches were another extra detail my husband had done for me, hoping to comfort me in my new home. The benches were pointless, but Stan did what he pleased with his money. Besides, I had told Stan it would be wonderful if the benches shined with sparkly light as the sun shined with incandescent light.

My husband showered me with anything I wanted. . .but in the grand scheme of things, I was only one of his possessions.

Not his wife.

Or well, I was his wife, but not the kind that is stereotyped—where husband comes home from work and kisses her on the cheek, where husband treats her like a lady, where a husband is respectful to the wife, where a husband sees his wife as en equal, sharing decisions, where a husband was glad when his wife was pregnant, where a husband was a best friend, not some dictator who controlled every aspect of my life.

I couldn't live like this anymore.

I glanced over to my right and for the first time in the longest time, I felt shocked over the eyes on me. For the first time, the neighbor I had never seen before was standing at his window, glancing my way, with his hands behind his back. When he saw me looking, he tipped his cowboy hat down, bowing his head slightly down as well, giving me one last look, before turning on his feet and walking away from the window, in a grace a man his height possessed.

I was discontent. Why had he walked away?

Strange.

But it wasn't the last time I caught him looking my way, standing at his window.

I allowed for July to pull aside the covers and gently place them over me as soon as I was safe in bed.

I thought about life as I waited for sleep to overtake me. I always thought of how life should be for me each time I went to bed in hopes of my dreams coming true one day.

My life was unsure and unstable, but one thing was for sure, in my mind at least.

I was going to snap.

And pretty soon.

I felt the strange eyes on me again.

Who do you think the man at the window? Dimitri will appear in the next chapter.

Actually, what did you think of this first chapter?

Remember, honest opinion. But don't make me want to hide under my bed.

Thanks so much for reading! I adore all of you who take the time to read and review.

Take care:)

-Melissa